


Welcome to the Big Leagues

by Hoodoo



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Mild Language, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 10:51:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13409694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoodoo/pseuds/Hoodoo
Summary: Doofus Rick + you + first time = awww!





	Welcome to the Big Leagues

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from tumblr anon: Hey! How about a really cutesy Doofus Rick x Female Reader fic where they're madly in love and lose their virginity to each other? I'm in the mood for some fluffy sex. <3 
> 
> (I figured Doofus was late 20s/early 30s for this. Enjoy!)

Tonight.

Tonight.

Oh god. He hoped it would be okay.

He should have been prepared. He was, kind of, he guessed. Everything was leading up to this: the calls, the dates, the sweet and slow make-out and petting sessions you’d already shared . . .. You were on the couch, making out, not rushing anything, and suddenly he was hard.

He thought he was ready. This is what people did, right? Find someone who was nice and you liked them and they liked you back; lots of relationships culminated in physical intimacy. It was a normal part of a relationship!

But now there was pressure. Pressure to perform well. Pressure to not come in thirty seconds like a virgin teenager. 

Even if he _was_ a virgin, but not a teenager. 

Rick gulped and tried to will his panic away.

You purred and stroked him through his pants. When you realized he was stiff—not just his erection, but stiff all over, like a mannequin—you paused and took your hand away from him.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

“Y-yeah . . .”

You looked him over carefully and didn’t believe him.

You weaved the fingers of one hand through one of his and kissed him. He tried to return it, tried to make it just as it had been before when everything was hot and exciting, but his mouth was suddenly desert dry.

You kept your mouth on his anyway.

Finally you stopped but stayed pressed against him.

“Are you okay?” you asked again, using your free hand to brush the hair off his forehead.

He didn’t even try to answer this time.

You pursed your lips for a moment. The expression sent a bolt of fear through him: he was fucking this up, this was something you both wanted and he was fucking it up, if he thought about it too much he was going to lose his erection, he needed to stop being a-a . . . doofus, like they called him, and just channel his inner caveman and go for it—

“You’re worried.”

You dropped your hand from his hair and let it rest on his chest. Your two words weren’t a question, and you continued before he could formulate a reply.

“It’s okay, Rick. We can do whatever you want.”

Still no words were organizing coherently in his head.

“What would you like? What would make it best for you?” you asked. “Would it be best if . . . this first time I went down on you? Would that be okay?”

You were asking him questions like you understood, like you could read his mind about his panic! How could that be? How could he have stumbled across someone like you—?

You continued in his silence. “I’m totally fine with that, you know. You’ve done so much to me—“ You cut yourself off to laugh at the memories of him exploring your body with fingers and mouth carefully, like you were porcelain, but also reverently. Like worshiping at a temple. “—that I’d love to do that. I’d love to do something that was just for you, to make you feel as good as you make me feel! Okay? What do you want?”

It would be an easy way out. You were allowing him to not have to worry about anything else; just focus on himself. Not have to worry if you were satisfied, spare him the embarrassment if he came immediately. Oh god—

What did he want? He wanted everything. He wanted your mouth; he wanted your pussy; he wanted to be able to have it all. Beyond the panic that he wouldn’t last very long, a second worry nipped at its heels: would you be so unsatisfied with a subpar performance, that maybe you wouldn’t be willing to do it again? Would this be his only chance to do this? What to do, what to do—if he waited much longer to make a decision there would be no decision to make—

You kissed him again. It was a powerful, steady kiss, meant to distract, but he was acutely aware of your hand moving down his front again. He forced himself to relax so you wouldn’t pull your hand away a second time.

You had to stop kissing him to look down to work the button on his jeans, then unzip the fly.

Rick watched you with an odd feeling of detachment. When you pushed your hand under the elastic of his underpants, however, the sensation of you taking his cock in hand snapped him back into himself.

He couldn’t contain a gasping moan. He also couldn’t tear his eyes away from his crotch, and what you were doing.

After a squeeze and a stroke, you pulled your hand out of his pants and made to strip him. With hands made clumsy by panic and desire, Rick lifted his hips and helped.

You didn’t move from his side; you allowed him to stay relaxed on the couch while you kissed him. Your hand curled around his cock again and he felt you smile through the kiss when he involuntarily pushed up against you.

Sucking his lower lip between your teeth, you held onto it for a second before releasing his mouth. Now you didn’t ask again what he wanted, but started kissing and nipping your way down his chest. 

Your tongue made wet trails down his front. You nibbled and licked and giggled when he squirmed, and never, ever stopped the gentle teasing stroke of your hand. The pressure should be too light to get him off, but if you kept it up, he would put that theory to the test.

You worked your way down to his groin. Here you finally paused, mouth in proximity to the head of his cock. A bead of pre-cum glistened at the tip; you’d rubbed him but hadn’t brought your hand up and over to remove it. 

Rick held his breath as he felt your breath ghost against him.

You twisted your head to look at him again. 

“Well?” you asked coyly.

How could he answer anything but: yes, oh god, yes.

Your tongue caught and lapped the moisture at the end of his cock, then swirled around the head, and then Rick couldn’t catalogue any other individual movement as your mouth engulfed him.

The sensation of suction and licking made him drop his head back to the cushions behind him. He knew the noises coming out of his mouth were wanton and needy and desperate but he couldn’t control them, just as he couldn’t control his hand from reaching out and threading into your hair. He wouldn’t force you to continue or presume to set a pace; he only wanted more connection.

Because you never changed position, he found your other hand and gripped it tightly too.

The pleasure rose almost to its peak, escalating just as quickly as he feared. He fought for some control, however, and at one point, during the upward pull during one of your strokes, he caught you to make you pause. He choked out,

“Oh—oh, I’m going to come—stop!—is this how you want me to finish?”

You grinned mischievously up at him and countered with, “Is this how you want to finish?”

Just this little break was doing wonders. He wasn’t held captive by the overwhelming heavy feeling of impending orgasm. You waited with your eyebrows raised, but didn’t stop occasionally flicking your tongue out to lap at him again.

“I want—“

You drew the head of his cock back into your mouth; Rick stuttered.

“—I-I want—oh _god—“_

You moved your mouth further down the shaft, taking him in.

“—to—I-I w-want—“

You started back up, not easing up on the suction your mouth created.

 _“—I want to fuck you!”_

At the completion of his sentence you released him again. He was flustered, speaking so frankly and with such vulgarity, but the feral look in your eye made him shiver. He’d made the right choice.

You were up off the couch and stripping faster than he could have assisted with. To your credit, you were only wearing pants and panties at that point, Rick thought, and in only a few seconds you were naked in front of him.

“How would it be best for you?” you asked seriously.

Rick realized you were still focused on what would make him the happiest; didn’t you understand that literally _anything_ was going to get him off? You should be more concerned about what would be best for you—

“Rick?” you interrupted his thoughts by leaning down and putting your hands on his knees to look him directly in the face.

The position didn’t actually help his concentration, with your breasts on display—

“Do you want to go to the bedroom? Do you want to be on top or behind me? Do you want me to be on top?”

“I’m not going to last very long . . .” he admitted with a mumble, still staring at your chest.

You sighed, but it didn’t sound too exasperated. 

“Then you better pick a good position!” you teased.

At your joking, Rick finally glanced into your eyes.

“Well?”

“I’d like you on top,” he slurred into one big word, like this was an answer to what he wanted for a last meal. He didn’t know what he was doing, he figured that position would disguise the fact that he was inept—

You didn’t hesitate. You straddled his narrow hips and suddenly he was in proximity of your tits. He took your hips and buried his face in the valley between your breasts, which made you giggle. You let him have a moment, and then kissed the top of his head as you slipped a hand between the two of you.

Rick dropped his head back as you took his cock in your hand again.

“I don’t have a condom!” he blurted in an unexpected new panic.

You didn’t stop angling him to the right spot. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” you soothed. “I want to feel everything—“

With a hissing groan, you found where you needed him to be and pushed down on him smoothly, before he could protest again.

You didn’t complete your sentence, or if you did, Rick didn’t hear it with the blood pounding in his ears and the spike of pleasure that he’d managed to ease away from rocketing through him again. Your mouth had been good, it was good, he thought maybe blowjobs were the best thing ever created but now this—this was— _oh!_ —so good, a different good, how could there be anything better in the world than sliding into the tight silky heat of a pussy—

“—oh _Rick,”_ you panted.

—and he learned in addition to the heavy physical sensations, having a woman call out your name in shared pleasure was a glorious bonus too.

You didn’t wait for him to say anything in return—all he could formulate was a pathetic wordless moan, anyway—and started rocking and thrusting against him.

He didn’t know what to do with his hands. He clutched at you, not knowing if his grip was too tight, thinking he should probably finger your clit or do something, anything, else besides lie back and let you do all the work, but sharp white bliss was shutting down his voluntary control of anything. 

The tension in his core was almost to the breaking point; he felt his balls tighten as the feeling of eminent release was almost on him—

“Oh, oh—I’m going to come! Is-is this okay—oh god—“

This time you didn’t honor his anxiety-driven worry by stopping. As a matter of fact, his frantic little sentence only made you smile and thrust yourself onto him with more energy and harder intent. Your panting moans joined his, and he took a little self-satisfaction from that, even though he wasn’t really doing anything—

With an involuntary howl, Rick pushed up against you, reflexively burying himself as deeply as he could into the woman above him. He held your waist tightly, pushing you down onto him as he came.

You allowed him to direct what he wanted during his orgasm. You licked your lips and watched the expression on his face go from tensed and absorbed then slowly smooth out and become relaxed and easy. You smiled down at him even though he didn’t see it with his eyes closed, and kissed a line over his forehead.

Rick’s staccato panting hit your neck and when his hands finally released you, you brushed your lips on his.

He twitched as if to kiss you back, but still didn’t have his breath.

You let him be until he could open his eye again.

“Did you climax?” he asked.

You laughed at him. You didn’t mean to, it wasn’t meant to be a cruel thing; but the first words out of your boyfriend’s mouth were whether or not you came? You’d been seeing each other for a few months now, and this was the first time you’d gone this far, and this was what he was concerned with?

You tried to rein it in. “No,” you answered truthfully. “No I didn’t.”

An abashed look crossed his face, and you wouldn’t have it.

“This was the first time for both of us!” you ribbed lightly. “I didn’t expect to come!”

Now an expression of consternation marred his face.

“You-you were a virgin too?” he asked, immediately troubled. “I didn’t know that! I would have . . . well, I would have done _something_ better . . . I’ve read that it can be painful, the first time, for a woman—are you okay?”

You waved off his concern. Your tone became a shade more serious. “I’m fine! It’s totally fine, Rick. It didn’t hurt. I loved what we did tonight.”

He nodded slowly; he could tell you were being truthful even if he wasn’t completely convinced. He also knew you didn’t want to hear how he’d make it up to you later, even though that thought skipped through his head. He opted for the same light-heartedness you did.

“So, then . . . every time we do this is there going to be a third degree question and answer session? Or can we eventually just pretend I’m normal and get down to it?”

You threw your head back and laughed. That made him happy.

“Depends on you! You just go all sex-crazed guy on me, and I won’t go all ‘let’s talk about all this’ woman-y on you! Deal?”

He laughed with you, and pulled you down for a fond kiss.

_fin._


End file.
